Friday, July 24, 2015

Jews love Francis

"If the world hate you, know ye, that it hath hated me before you.
If you had been of the world, the world would love its own: but because
you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world,
therefore the world hateth you.
Remember my word that I said to you: The servant is not greater than
his master. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you: if
they have kept my word, they will keep yours also. But all these things they will do to you for my name' s sake: because they know not him who sent me. If I had not come, and spoken to them, they would not have sin; but now they have no excuse for their sin. He that hateth me, hateth my Father also.
If I had not done among them the works that no other man hath done,
they would not have sin; but now they have both seen and hated both me
and my Father. But that the word may be fulfilled which is written in their law: They hated me without cause."

Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio became Pope Francis I on March 13, 2013; by December, he was Time’s “Man of the Year”; and in January, the Huffington Post announced rave reviews by the “Forward 50 list of top American Jews” as well.

Calling the Jewish People “Our big brothers” on the 75th
anniversary of Kristallnacht certainly helped, as did his giving Rabbi
Abraham Skorka (of the Seminario Rabinico Latinoamericano) an honorary
doctorate from the Catholic University of Argentina.

But this Jewish adulation is also a sigh of relief following an era
when Jewish-Catholic relationships seemed again to be in jeopardy. After
centuries of Catholic enmity over the Jewish “rejection” of Christ,
Vatican II had surprised the world with its1963 affirmation that God
still “holds the Jews most dear” and “does not repent of the calls He
issues.” That is to say, Judaism has not, after all, been superseded by
Christianity; Jews should not be reviled as Christ killers; and
Christian anti-Semitism must cease.

That was the liberalizing era of Popes John XXIII and Paul VI,
however. With their successors, John Paul II and then Benedict XVI, the
revival of conservative forces in the Vatican made Jews suspect the
imminent return also of medieval Catholic separatism.

When Francis
reasserted the “common roots” of Jews and Christians, and the reminder
that “a true Christian cannot be anti-Semitic,” Jews concluded that the
gains of Vatican II might be here to stay.

But the Jewish love affair with Francis isn’t all about self-interest.

An article in Haaretz (Anshei Pfeffer, “Pope Francis Cannot
save Us.” Dec. 11, 2013) got it right: “In the total absence of truly
charismatic political or spiritual figures, in a generation where
Israel’s elected leaders and rabbis constantly make us cringe with their
outrageous statements or despair at their hopeless blandness,
Bergoglio… extends some hope that we may yet see some wise old men [sic]
of faith in our lifetime.”

We would say “men and women” not just “men”; being “old” has nothing
to do with it; and the issue is not just Israel. But otherwise, hurray
for Haaretz for observing that the positive public voice of
Judaism has been wanting. Whatever happened to the Jewish visionaries
who spoke truths instead of platitudes, posited promises of Jewish
purpose rather than threats to Jewish continuity, held out hope for a
troubled world, and made us proud to know that our Judaism is deep and
wise, compassionate and compelling?

Who remembers the days when Abraham Joshua Heschel spoke poetically
and prophetically to reassure a worldwide audience that religion still
had something important to say? Or when thousands of Reform Jews
gathered biennially, to hear Rabbi Alexander Schindler demand that they
act boldly, think creatively, and make a difference?

The relative dearth of such voices today is a generational flaw, not
because rabbis now are less able, but because of the way they have been
trained (their “spiritual formation,” in theological language). Heschel
and Schindler took it for granted that as experts in Jewish tradition,
rabbis think deeply, speak boldly, and command a bully pulpit. Seeing
flaws in this “Big Man” model of leadership, their students (my
generation) emphasized alternative strategies like team work,
collaboration, and facilitating group process.

So far so good – but we went too far: confusing authoritarianism with authority, we stopped speaking authoritatively.

Congregations aid and abet this downfall of authority by making
rabbis managers, bureaucrats and apparatchiks. Success is attending
meetings and managing a process that slowly creaks along while people
forget why it is creaking altogether.

The economy hasn’t helped either: those in positions of national
authority (not just Jews but everyone) exhaust themselves just to avoid
closing plants and programs – leaving little time or energy to think or
to proclaim anything. The national mood too is at fault for thriving on
negativity and crippling great vision with a lethal combination of
parsimonious bookkeeping and meanness of spirit.

What is the point of religion in the first place, however, if not to
insist on vision, especially where the complexities of life seem to
foster helplessness and hopelessness, precisely our situation today?

So along comes Francis, a welcome reminder of religion beyond
bureaucracy, and heralding the best that we must become. I do not agree
with everything he says – his economics, for example; and, no doubt, he
has his own conservative naysayers who cringe at the very things that
make the rest of us stand up and applaud.

But most Jews are on their feet and clapping – not just for Francis,
but for what he represents and what we miss. The responsibility for
making up that loss cannot be laid on the shoulders of the rabbinate
alone. We have all colluded in manufacturing our problem; we must all
work together in solving it.

Synagogues can insist on rabbis with learning and vision – then
expect them to learn and engage them in visioning. Seminaries can demand
that students think deeply, not just hurriedly and passingly;
philanthropists can invest in big ideas with a future, not just reactive
strategies dictated by the past. Jews don’t need Francis; we need
rabbis like him, because without them, it remains unclear why we should
even remain Jewish in the first place.